The old woman looked at her crying, with that steady composure which marks her sex on these occasions; and, when she was better, said quietly, "You are not so weak as you think." She added, after a while, "If you wish to retain my son, you had better leave a fee."
"With pleasure, madam. What is the fee?"
"One guinea. Of course, there is a separate charge for any work he may do for you."
"That is but reasonable, madam." And with this she paid the fee, and rose to go.
"Shall I send any one home with you?"
"No, thank you," said Helen. "Why?"
"Because you are followed, and because you are not used to be followed."
"Why, how did you find that out?"
"By your face, when a man passed the window—a shabby-genteel fellow; he was employed by some gentleman, no doubt. Such faces as yours will be followed in London. If you feel uneasy, miss, I will put on my bonnet and see you home."
Helen was surprised at this act of substantial civility from the Gorgon. "Oh, thank you, Mrs. Undercliff," said she. "No, I am not the least afraid. Let them follow me, I am doing nothing that I am ashamed of. Indeed, I am glad I am thought worth the trouble of following. It shows me I am not so thoroughly contemptible. Good-by, and many thanks. Ten o'clock to-morrow."